Bittersweet Victory
by Billie Hart
Summary: As death coated her life, Hermione Granger felt so far away that she would never smile again. Fred's funeral proved no different.


**Bittersweet Victory**

It was rainy and kind of cold, and there was this ever-prominent feeling that no one would ever smile again. Or, maybe that was just me. I figured it would be just me, but as my eyes roamed around the place, I noticed that, for once, not one of the red-heads in my presence was smiling. And, as I looked at the coffin in front of us, and the face of the one inside, still the small hints of his perma-smile across his face, I realized why. The only one you could ever count on for always smiling was inside that box. I felt my lip tremble as that thought flew across my mind.

Fred was dead.

Unconsciously, my eyes wandered to George, who was sitting between his parents, his face expressionless as he stared at his brother, his twin brother. The only signs that he wasn't as dead as his twin were the tears that hadn't stopped rolling from his blue eyes. I felt my heart sink, and I wanted to collapse in a sea of despair and sorrow, until I heard a shuddering breath from next to me, and felt the shaking hand that was clasping mine. I looked up and found Ron's blue eyes, his face bright red, tears falling from his eyes as he tried his best not to completely lose it. Next to him was Ginny, whose similar features had the same expression, her hands grabbing Ron's other hand Harry's, who hadn't left her alone since that battle was over.

People spoke, and I had a feeling that no one was paying any attention to them. By the end, Ron's grip on my hand was so hard I thought he might break my fingers. I didn't say anything, because a few broken bones might bring me back to reality, and stop this hazy, ending feeling. Here I was, seventeen years old, and everything I had associated myself with up until that point had ended. All because we were brave, all because we had to do the right thing.

I was glad that Voldemort was dead, that the killing would stop. All in all, I was glad that the war was over, but sometimes I wish it had been finished by someone else, someone who wasn't me or my friends. I wish that most of the casualties hadn't been my acquaintances, my friends, the closest things I had to a family now. As people stood to leave, Ron let go of my hand and Ginny let go of Harry's, the two of them walking off to where the rest of their large family waited for people to give them their condolences.

All the Weasleys were there, and eventually I watched George pull a weeping Angelina Johnson into a rough hug, both of them clinging to each other and sobbing frantically. Lee Jordan appeared out of almost nowhere and wrapped his arms around the two of them. Ron and Ginny were still holding each other's hand, Ginny only letting go to hug Luna Lovegood roughly, before collapsing into frantic sobs again. Next to Luna was Dean, and despite his history with Ginny, he hugged her and Luna softly, before giving Ginny a soft kiss on the top of her head. Harry walked over to Ginny and pulled her to him, the redhead falling against his chest roughly as Harry guided her away from the room, trying to put some distance between her and the crowd and her older brother's coffin.

Ron watched Ginny go, and stood somewhat awkwardly. He found his way to his mother, who he hugged tightly as she sobbed into his chest, his father being comforted by Hagrid. His mom pulled back, wiping tears away from her youngest son's face before kissing his cheeks sloppily, mumbling something I couldn't hear. He nodded, and then let her go, moving away, but Charlie was with her in an instant. It was almost heartwarming to watch all of her children come to her, wanting the comfort of their mommy.

I looked around for a moment, the church a way too dismal for my own comfort as I noticed Ron had left. I walked outside, the rain coming down in sheets and plastering my bushy brown curls to my face. Ron was standing at the top of a hill, looking down on the small town behind him. His hair was plastered to his face as well, and his pants and shoes were covered in mud. I walked to him, my heals sinking into the ground occasionally, but I didn't care. I slipped my hand into his when I made it to him, and his red, puffy eyes found mine.

"Hey…"I said, at a loss for words. He didn't say anything, but he gripped my hand back tightly. He looked out at the town, and I followed his gaze, wizarding and muggle families living side by side, now without worry.

Thunder clapped above us, but neither of us jumped. We'd each gone numb to fright of trivial things like that, we knew real horror, real danger and real pain. Suddenly, the realization that it was all over, that there was nothing left to fight, that there would be no more killing washed over me, and I felt like a huge weight was lifted off of me. But with that weight, my shield was lifted away. I let go of his hand and wrapped my arms around his waist, laying my head against his wet chest. Tears were falling from my eyes, and my shoulders shook as I realized the sheer number of funerals I had to attend.

Fred's was the first, next there was Collin's, Lupin and Tonks', who were having a dual funeral and being buried next to each other, and then Snape's. There were countless others, but Ron, Harry, Ginny and I could only handle so much grief in one month. Ron's arms wrapped protectively around me as the rain picked up, and he guided me into a gazebo near by, it proving to be enough shelter from the rain. He sat us down on the ground, not bothering with the wet seats as he held me in his lap, my face still buried in his chest.

I felt him press his face into my wet hair, and I let myself cry until I couldn't any longer. When the tears stopped and the heaving breathes subsided, I didn't move from his grasp, and he didn't seem to want me to. We stayed like that for a bit, listening to the pitter patter of the rain on the gazebo around us, it matching up with the soft, rhythmic beating of his heart. It reminded me of the piano lessons mother had used to make me take, and I felt a new wave of sorrow wash over me.

"Hermione…" He said roughly, quietly, his voice harsh with tears. I moved so I could look at him, our eyes meeting. His deep, bright blue eyes were sparkling at me, and I stared back. He bit his lip, pressing our foreheads together before speaking again. "...It's all over right?," he whispered, lifting a hand to wipe the tears away from my face, " I mean…I know Harry won, and You-Know…Voldemort is dead, that means it's over right? That means everything can go back to normal…" his words choked off into tears on the last few. I moved so I swung my legs over his, pulling his head to my shoulder and he clung to my waist, his broad shoulders shaking as he cried on my shoulder.

"No, Ron…" I said, petting his messy, wet hair down, "It'll never go back to normal, we're different, all of us, we've learned things, lost things, gained things…normal is never going to happen again." His grip on me tightened more and I pulled his face up to look at me. "We can never forget, do you understand me?" I said, tears swelling in my eyes. "For their sake, for Fred and Lupin and Tonks and Dobby and Collin and everyone, for Madeye and Sirius and Dumbledore, for everyone who died in this goddamned war, promise me that we'll never forget this." He nodded, and I thought I saw a hint of a smile on his lips.

"In hindsight, all those little things I used to worry about in school seem so trivial now," he said, and he wiped a tear away from my face. I arched my brow.

"Like what?" I asked, trying to think of a trivial thing I used to worry about. For the most part, they still seemed pretty relevant.

"Like your reaction to this," he said, and before I could ask, he closed the gap between our lips. His lips were soft, and a little swollen from biting them, and as I kissed him back, he pulled me closer, his tongue swiping across my bottom lip as he let one hand roam to my wet, curly hair. I felt my heart speed up, my body respond, and I sagged into him. He was my everything, and I could live with that now. He ended the kiss, pulling back and looking at me sheepishly, and I did something I doubted I would ever be able to do again.

I smiled.

"I love you, Ron Weasley," I said, and I saw a blush flood his face, his ears turning red against his hair. He smirked a little.

"Thank god, I was afraid you'd hit me," he said, before pulling me into another kiss.

The next month would be hard, but we'd get through it. We had to, we always get through it.


End file.
